A Christmas Miracle
by QuidnamInferorum
Summary: Christmas isn't going exactly like the reader planned. Written for winchester-writes' Christmas Challenge on tumblr. Minor swearing, almost entirely fluff.


Written for winchester-writes' Christmas Challenge on tumblr. Prompts were "Fairytale of New York" by the Pogues and ice skates.

* * *

She had been so excited for the holidays.

In all the years she'd known and loved the Winchesters, they'd always looked at her like she had escaped from the loony bin when she suggested the idea of celebrating Christmas together. They'd explained that they rarely celebrated the holiday and the last time they did, it was because it was supposedly Dean's final one.

But now they had the bunker, they had a real home to decorate and everything. And still, they fought her on this. She'd even gone up to Dean and pulled the girlfriend card, saying that it would be their first Christmas _together_ , and he'd still refused.

So, instead, she had enlisted Castiel, who was fascinated with the whole thing, to help her. They decorated, baked, and bought presents for everyone together. Usually with Y/N giving a running commentary on why they did the things they did. It was not uncommon for the phrase "I don't know, it's just tradition!" to pass her lips often.

The boys didn't argue with her as they decked the halls, but they didn't help. At least they kept their grumbling to themselves, allowing her her bit of holiday cheer.

She began getting excited. She was sure that, even though they were being grinches _now_ , once the day itself rolled around, they'd take a good look around and get into the holiday spirit. She carefully wrapped presents for the Winchesters and Castiel with glee and began secretly planning winter dates for her and her boyfriend.

Then, two days before Christmas, all of her carefully crafted plans were ruined.

A loud sneeze, followed by a slightly quieter coughing fit ripped through the bunker.

Y/N sat huddled on the bed she shared with Dean, nestled safely in a blanket cocoon. A half-empty box of tissues sat next to her, alongside a box of Sudafed and her laptop. The closest she had been to snow in days was the used tissues littered about her. Deep dark rings had made their home under her eyes, accentuated by the general redness in her face caused by her fever.

A soft knock came to her door. Her raspy, barely-audible voice bid him to come in.

The door opened to reveal her boyfriend, Dean Winchester, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of tomato rice soup, some medicine, and a glass of water. "Hey sicky, how ya feeling?" he asked as he sat down beside her, placing the tray gingerly across her lap. His hand came up to rest against her forehead, and he scowled at the contact.

"Peachy," she grumbled. "Thank you."

He smiled softly, the hand on her forehead moving down to cup her cheek. "You still feel really hot."

"I'm _always_ hot, Dean."

"Obviously."

She chuckled half-heartedly at that. "Thanks for all this. I woulda camped out in my old room, y'know?"

He shook his head. "C'mon, you know my mattress is better than yours, and you need rest to heal up. Plus, it's your room too. Wouldn't be right to kick you out."

She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose into it, sniffling slightly still as she pulled it away. "Well, thanks for not kicking me out, anyway."

"Never would, sweetheart." She could practically hear that he wanted to lean down and press a kiss to her temple, but she was still a vestige of disease, so he stayed away. She didn't blame him.

She sniffled once more, running the back of her hand across her nose. "Well, you can tell Cas to take all the decorations down."

"What?"

She sighed. "I was the only one who wanted to celebrate this year and, well, if I'm gonna miss it, I'd rather not be reminded too much."

"C'mon, you're not missing Christmas, baby."

"Yeah I am, Dean. It's…it's fine. How fun would it have been, anyway? I mean, Cas would've spent the whole day confused, and you and Sam wouldn't have been into it, so…so this is for the best."

Dean frowned. "This is all you've been talking about for weeks, sweetheart."

She shrugged, pulling the blanket closer. "Yeah, well, it looks like it just isn't in the cards, that's all."

"But—"

"Dean," she smiled sadly. "You're being a sweetheart, but, c'mon, let's be realistic here. Just…I'd feel better if we just forgot about Christmas this year. I shouldn't've tried to shove it down your throats."

He pulled her into a hug at that, resting her blanketed head on his shoulder. "…okay, if that's what you want, we'll do it, alright?"

She nodded.

"Only if you're sure."

She nodded.

"Because we don't—"

"Dean, I'm a _thousand_ and _ten_ percent positive, and if you ask again, I'm gonna have to hurt you."

* * *

Y/N studiously ignored the fact that it was Christmas Day. She'd only left her room in the last few days to go to the bathroom, and, God bless her little family, they'd taken down all the wreaths she'd put on the inhabited rooms' doors. She also completely avoided the library, too sad to look at the former crown jewel of her decorations.

Dean, Sam, and Cas had been wonderful the past two days, bringing her whatever she needed and never letting her get up from bed if she didn't have to.

She was determined to curl up in her bed with Dean and watch stupid movies and get through the last of his stupid cold.

When she woke up, however, she was all alone. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she walked down the halls, heading for the kitchen.

The smell of gingerbread hit her nose, which crinkled in automatic confusion. She followed the scent like a bloodhound and soon found herself in the library.

Not one of the decorations had been taken down. The garlands and twinkling lights still hung from the walls where she and the angel had placed them. Piano music was coming from the back of the library, and she quickly recognized the song, which made her smile. Happily humming along, she turned into the archway to see the Winchesters and Castiel standing at the end of the line of tables. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What the—?"

"Dean, I told you to put on Christmas music!"

"I did!"

" _Fairytale of New York_ is _not_ a Christmas song!"

"First, yes it is. Second—"

"This song seems to talk about Christmas. Does that not make it a Christmas song?"

"No, no it doesn't. Just like _Die Hard_ is not a Christmas movie, _Dean_."

"You shut your mouth."

She smiled warmly. The boys were standing in front of what looked to be a Charlie Brown tree, with all the presents she'd wrapped under it, along with a few more, wrapped crudely in newspaper.

She coughed, which made all the men jump and turn around to face her. Each one was wearing a terrible, ugly Christmas sweater, a sight that made her smile, even as confused as she was.

"Baby, you should be sleeping!" Dean immediately went into caretaker mode, moving towards her quickly to check on her.

"What's all this?" she asked as his hands came up to cup her cheeks to check her temperature.

He smiled awkwardly. "Uh…well, uh…"

Sam huffed out a laugh. "You're not missing Christmas, that's what's happening."

"What?"

Dean shrugged, letting his hands fall to her shoulders, trailing down to her hands to link their fingers together. "C'mon," he pulled her towards the small tree. Once close enough, he pulled out a chair and set her down in it.

Castiel handed over a steaming mug of hot cocoa, which she took gratefully. "Thanks."

"Apparently, eggnog is the more traditional drink, but Sam suggested that you may prefer something warm right now."

"Plus, you don't need whiskey right now," Sam chuckled.

"Whiskey?" Castiel cocked his head to the side. "Is that an ingredient in eggnog?"

"Only if you're doing it right, Cas," Dean chimed in. He grabbed a newspaper-wrapped box from under the tiny tree, handing it over to her. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

She smiled widely, her eyes watering. "You guys…"

"C'mon, let's just open presents!" Sam grinned as he began handing things out.

They all sat around the table, opening presents and talking animatedly. At some point, eggnog joined the party, and she honestly couldn't remember how, when, or why.

Y/N took her time to open the present Dean had handed her, instead watching the boys tease, poke, and prod at each other as they opened the presents from her.

He leaned over after his first glass of eggnog, nudging her shoulder with his. "You not gonna open it?"

She beamed and ripped the newspaper off, revealing a nondescript box, which she tore into just as viciously. Inside sat the most beautiful, brand new, bright white ice skates. Her brow furrowed and she looked up at Dean. "You got me ice skates?"

His hand came up to rub the back of his neck as his ears tinged pink. "Well, I know you like all that chick flick crap and you kept talking about wanting to go ice skating together this Christmas, so…so this is me promising to take you when you feel better."

That was the exact moment she began to cry.

"Oh, uh…son of a bitch, baby," he stuttered out, already trying to do damage control. "I'm so sorry. I'll get you something better, I swear—"

"No, this is…" she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand like a child. "This is perfect, Dean. I would kiss the shit out of you if I could."

He laughed, relief flooding him immediately. His hand came up to stroke her cheek. "I don't mind if you don't."

"Dean, I'm all snotty and gross."

"You're beautiful."

"Oh, you are so getting laid the second I get better," she laughed, pulling him into a quick close-mouthed kiss.

He pulled away, grinning. "Can't wait."


End file.
